Page 71 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

I have to tell Leo about Enzo. It’s the right thing to do.

It’s time.

Chapter 20

Leo

Bianca is breaking our kiss. I don’t want to let her go—I won’t ever let her go now that she’s back, now I’ve found her again. In my arms, with me, close to me, that’s where she belongs.

I pull her in tighter, but it seems I didn’t count on her strength as she forcefully extracts herself from my arms and stands next to the couch. A thought strikes me, making me sit upright.

Was I forcing myself on her?

“Bianca, I’m sorry,” I say. “This is too fast, too soon for you. I get it—”

Her finger on my lips makes me stop, and my hand comes up to clench hers where it lays upon my chin.

“Too fast?” I mumble again.

She shakes her head.

I don’t get it, though. Why did she break away? Elation like I’ve never felt before was coursing through me less than a minute ago. Because I had her with me again. She’s alive. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the moment my eyes landed on her as she stood there at the foot of the stairs. She’s done something to her hair, and her face looks wearier, much more mature, but I knew it was her, all right. My soul, it felt the same connection that ragedthrough me inside that bridal suite where she became mine in body, when we soared together in ecstasy.

But now, she’s moved away, and she’s hoisting me upright with her hand pulling on mine.

“What is it?” I ask, standing up.

“There’s…something you need to know, that you need to see,” she says as she starts out of the living room.

“What?” It’s a question as much as it’s expressing my confusion.

She stops and turns to me, my hand still in hers.

“No more secrets, Leo. It seems to me you want me back—”

“I do,” I rush to reassure her.

“To have a future, we need to put the past to rest. I need to show you something.”

Her tone sounds ominous, and I stay silent as I let her lead me to the second floor. She pushes the door of the guest room opening on the landing gently, confers with someone inside. Mattia comes out, and my best friend’s eyes meet mine. He gives me a small smile and pats my shoulder as he brushes past, then Bianca’s tugging on my hand again. She motions for me to stay quiet, then she pulls me into the bedroom.

The first thing I notice is the amber night light throwing patterns of stars languidly on the walls. My gaze then drops to the bed, and when I register what’s on it, my lungs seize for a second as my body freezes.

There, with a soft blanket on his gangly legs, sleeps a little boywith a mop of thick, unruly dark hair. He’s clutching a plush toy to his side. While I’m staring at him, speechless, he flips onto his back, a few dark locks falling on his narrow forehead. He’s got rounded cheeks, and that little mouth, I’ve seen its shape on my brothers’ faces, on my own in the mirror.

He murmurs something; it sounds likeMaman. Bianca drops my hand to go to him. With a soft touch, she brushes his hair back then places a kiss on his forehead, mumbling something to him in French, it sounds like.

That boy, it’s her son. And mine. That’s my child.

She must have been pregnant when she disappeared. And that’s probably the reason why she faked her death. No one condones children being born out of wedlock in our community. Now add to it that she was betrothed to another man, the shame it would’ve brought if she’d gone to that marriage bed not only not a virgin, but carrying another man’s child? They would’ve killed her, and the Mafia might even have agreed it’s the only way to wash their honor clean.

Bianca would’ve been dead…as would’ve been my son.

I’m not a man given to expansive displays of emotion usually. As much as I’m yearning to run my finger on the chubby cheek of this little boy, take his hand in mine, push his hair back, hold him in my arms, carry him around on my hip with his arms around my neck, I can contain it all. But the lone tear that slips down my cheek? I can’t keep it in. I have a son, with Bianca, and all this time, she’s kept him safe.

I don’t know how long I stand there staring at this sleeping child. Bianca doesn’t rush me, and when I finally tear my gaze from the boy and look at her, she gives me a small, pained smile.

I frown. Is she worried I’m angry? That I’m going to berate her for keeping this secret from me?

---